


The Things We Say Under Duress

by theomnisquid



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon Divergent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 14:30:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2471597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theomnisquid/pseuds/theomnisquid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson’s first thought is how his team (most likely May) is going to kill him when they rescue him. Because he may or may not (totally did) have snuck off the bus when they last touched down to ground for a bit of a quiet drive in Lola. And ok, it was probably stupid to not tell anyone what he was doing. But dammit! he is a grown ass man and can do stuff on his own. Plus Lola had been feeling cooped up and really wanted to go for a drive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Things We Say Under Duress

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this is only mildly beta'd. I've gone through and at least tried to correct some of the mistakes. But this was suppose to be a gift for my sister before she moved to Des Moines a couple months ago (oops) so I wanted to just get it done and up. I'm not sure if I like the ending, so that might be redone.
> 
> This is slightly divergent from the canon of the universe. Hydra did attack Shield. But Fury is still in charge at this point.

The first thing Phil feels when he comes to, is the ropes cutting into his wrists. His mouth is dry and feels like it is stuffed with cotton balls. Which is close to the reality of the thin cotton t-shirt scrap that has indeed been shoved into his mouth. He takes a few moments before he opens his eyes though. His head is pounding; plus judging by the whir of machines in a somewhat close proximity he doesn’t need his eyes to tell him he is in some type of factory. He opens his left eye first. Slowly-carefully- he isn’t sure if someone might be sitting opposite him waiting for him to awaken. And he isn’t sure he wants to give his captor the joy of interrogation just yet. the first thing he sees is one Clint Barton aka Hawkeye stringed up by his wrists dangling from chains thrown over a structural beam on the ceiling. He opens his right eye immediately and stares at the SHIELD Agent. 

Coulson’s first thought is how his team (most likely May) is going to kill him when they rescue him. Because he may or may not (totally did) have snuck off the bus when they last touched down to ground for a bit of a quiet drive in Lola. And ok, it was probably stupid to not tell anyone what he was doing. But dammit! he is a grown ass man and can do stuff on his own. Plus Lola had been feeling cooped up and really wanted to go for a drive. His second thought is that Clint is very much naked. And very bruised and bloodied. Which leads to his third thought of he hopes Clint isn’t dead. the thought that Phil himself is supposed to be dead and how this situation is bound to get very awkward when Clint wakes may have also crossed his mind. So Phil does the only logical think he can think of; he wakes up Barton. Or rather he tries to. Clint either is really dead or he has decided to ignore Phil. Phil studies the archer and determines, that he is alive. Perhaps barely, but he is alive. So there is a good chance that he is ignoring Phil.

After a few minutes of staring at Clint’s slack face, Coulson wonders if perhaps the other agent is unconscious. _“Which is all well and good, now you won’t have to explain things you don’t want to explain.”_ a small part of his brain supplies. Phil frown and ignores that part of his brain as he tries to rotate his wrist just enough to engage the small blade hidden within his watch face, so that he can cut his way to freedom. 

_“You wore a normal watch today, idiot.”_ another small part of his brain not so helpfully reminds him. Phil wonders if he should talk to a SHIELD shrink about these voices in his head. He thinks maybe he needs a vacation. But the thought of a vacation sours his stomach. So he just decides to ask Fury for more work. He is busy glaring at the non-special ops wristwatch (as if it is its fault for being a normal watch without a hidden blade.) when he feels himself being watched. Mentally he kicks himself for letting his guard down over a stupid wristwatch (he also makes a note to get rid of all his non SHIELD items because they are absolutely useless.) and lifts his head up to meet the eyes of Clint Barton. Clint squints at Coulson like a man who has lost his glasses. But Phil knows that Clint has perfect vision. Now as he did when they still worked together. Just because he is “dead” doesn’t mean he has stopped checking up on his former team. Clint squints at Coulson for a lifetime before slumping his head back down in defeat.

“Nat is going to kill me for dying on her.” he mutters just barely audible before swinging his head back up and staring at Coulson again. Phil thinks Clint is taking his not being dead rather well as he hasn’t yet started yelling accusatory things at Phil. When Clint opens his mouth to speak again, Phil is expecting a “Why didn’t you tell me, you weren’t dead?” He doesn’t expect to hear _“I never thought I would see you in hell.”_ He has a reply for the first one, dammit. He might not be able to make Clint understand but he can at least explain it. “Nope, not dead. Fury brought me back using questionable methods with questionable alien medical technology. I’m a little messed up in the head right now. But I have this new team of agents that I lead and no I’m totally not replacing you or Natasha.” So yeah, he has a reply all ready to go for a “You’re not dead?” But trust one Clint “Hawkeye” Barton to not follow the script. He smirks at that thought, typical Hawkeye. He brings his attention back to Barton who is mumbling to himself.

“It is no wonder why I am here.”

“Not as hot as I had imagined.”

“Don’t know why he is here though.”

“Man is practically a saint.”

“Me? I’m in here on the account of I’m the biggest sinner in the midwest.”

“Well maybe biggest second biggest sinner. Barney was quite the asshole.”

“Natasha is going to make a deal with the devil just to come down here and kick my ass.”

“I really did think it would be hotter.”

“More flames too. Also more little red guys with pointed tails and pitchforks.”

“Clint!” Phil snaps, breaking into the other man’s ramblings. “We are not in hell.” Clint stares confused at Phil and for a moment, Phil is afraid that Hawkeye might have some minor brain damage. He does note the huge bruise on Clint’s right temple. So head trauma is a definite possibility.

 

"Shut up.” Phil hisses at himself. because really they only have need of one brain damaged agent in this situation. And judging by the way Clint has restarted on his ramblings about tiny devils and Natasha and fire and brimstone, Phil is pretty certain he has to be the sane one...this time. It is about this time that Phil notices Clint staring at his lips, intensely. And had had that been anyone else and had then been in any other situation, Phil would have felt very uncomfortable..

“We...are...not...in...hell.” Phil speaks slowly this time making sure to form the words on his lips as sharply as possible. Somewhere between here and wherever it was that Clint was captured, he must have lost his hearing aides. So Phil speaks slowly to allow Clint time to read his lips.

“Sorry,sir I have to disagree. Although I would have expected them roll out the red carpet in heaven for your arrival. I’m a man of many many sins. there is no way they’d let me into heaven.” Clint pauses and looks around at their surroundings with a thoughtful look on his face.

“No this is definitely hell and you are probably just some kind of hallucination meant to torture me. This is very similar to a couple of fantasies I’ve had. Except you weren’t tied up…” Clint trails off and peer at Phil again. This time like he was waiting for the man to flicker out of focus and be replaced with a different image. Phil’s mind - of course- focuses on the unspoken statement of Clint fantasizing about being strung up naked in front of him. A small part of him wants to know where those fantasies have lead. But that part will have to wait til later. When it is safe to be distracted.

“Clint, we are not in hell.” Phil repeats for a third time. "But we may very well soon be, if we don’t get out of here." Clint stares at him for a bit longer before nodding and craning his neck up to stare at his chains. Phil definitely doesn’t take a moment to watch a bead of sweat trickle down Barton’s neck (he wonders how it would feel to have his tongue against the skin of Clint's neck. How salty would he taste?) before he turns back to his own bindings. they are just simple rope. A bit thick, but he could chew through them..eventually. He really wants to kick his past self for the choice in watches. Because really, if he had the SHIELD issued one, they would not only be freed of their bondage by now, but have been rescued by his team. But the GPS locator in his watch is the very reason he didn’t wear it.

A small grunt from Clint brings his attention back to the archer. Phil watches as Clint grips the chains and slowly pulls himself up towards the ceiling. the manacles around his wrists undoubtedly biting harshly into his skin. And Phil definitely appreciates how the muscles in Clint’s arms pull tight as he pulls himself up the chains. then again, Phil has always been a bit of a hands and arms kind of man. he had always loved it when his cellist had worn sleeveless dresses at her performances. Her hands had always been so soft and supple on his skin. he wondered what Barton’s calloused hand would feel like comparatively.

Barton gets about halfway up the chains before his arms are shaking too much and give out on him. Phil winces visibly as he hears the bones in Clint’s wrists break. Clint hisses in pain and squeezes his eyes shut. Biting his lower lip in pain  
“Sorry, sir.” He says after a while. “With you dead, I’ve been slacking on my workouts. No one to keep me in line, make sure I’m at the top of my game.” Phil forces a smile at Clint. He knows that to be a lie. He knows that Natasha has no doubt dragged Clint to the mats every day they are not on a mission for a spar. He has no doubt that the man is in very good shape. Well as good a shape as a man who has been tortured recently can be.

“Clint..” Phil offers weakly, twisting his wrists around in an attempt to loosen his bonds. “I’ll get us out of here.” Clint grins at him.

“You always do, sir.” Phil ignores the way Clint’s eyes shine with tears.

Time passes. If his watch is anything to go by, it has been exactly three hours, ten minutes and thirty-two seconds since he woke up tied to a chair in front of a naked and dangling Hawkeye. In that time, he has taken in his surroundings. they are in some sort of factory. It is a bit dirty and unkempt. But judging from the constant low humming of machines and the dim lights above, it is not wholly abandoned. In fact, he would venture to guess they were being kept in a textile mill, somewhere below the spinning machines.

He has also noted that in that time, not once has their captors come into see them. A fact that worries him, more than it relieves him. Because that means they don’t want information. And he hates situations where they don’t want information. It gets way too sticky way too fast for his liking.

“Two years. “ Clint wheezes out and Phil thinks about how Barton will asphyxiate if they don’t get out of her soon.

“It’s been two years since you died, sir.” Phil nods, throat once again dry. He wants to tell Clint that he isn’t dead. that he is alive and well. Or as well as a broken man can be. He wants to clap his hands on the man’s shoulders. Just like he did, when he was his handler. he wants to scold him for drinking coffee out of the coffee pot (Seriously Clint, what are you a cave man?) as he steals said pot from the archer. So he can pour himself a mug of the java, instead he can only nod numbly at the man before him as he watches him suffocate slowly to death by his own weight. Phil thrashes violently in his chair, pulling desperately at his restraints. The ropes are thick and strong, his mouth will be a bloody mess. And Clint will have been long dead by the time he manages to chew through just one of them. He forces himself to calm down, even though he feels like crawling out of his own skin.

“Barton,” He barks out the name, just like he had before his death. “Do you know where we are?”

“Hell, sir. I’m in hell. the devil is torturing me with you.” Clint pants out.

“Barton...Clint.” Phil grits out. “I’m alive. This isn’t hell. Now where are we?”  
“I went to your memorial service sir. This is definitely hell.” Clint closes his eyes and struggles to breathe. Phil waits, teeth grinding together, for Clint to open his eyes again, so he can ask another question. Finally Clint’s eyes slide open, but he appears disoriented and Phil isn’t sure he will be able to decipher what he is saying.

“Fine, we are in hell. How did you get to here?” Phil is a little too relieved when Barton smirks at him.

“Well sir. I’ve liked my vices a little too much.” Clint snarks and Phil vows that he is going to punch that smart mouth off Clint later.

“Barton!” Phil scolds. “What was your mission?” Clint doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at a Coulson that he is sure isn’t real, but who sounds a lot like the real thing and forces himself to breathe as normally as possible.

“There were rumors about some SHIELD facilities being used.” Clint pauses trying to draw in as deep a breath as possible. “being used as labs for experiments. Human ones, sir.” Phil doesn’t respond, just watches Clint carefully. Waiting for him to continue.

“Fury had heard about a couple of kids; a brother and sister. It was just words on the wind. But he had wanted me to investigate.”

“Hydra” Phil spat out disdainfully. Clint nods weakly.

“Yeah, Hydra. Every damn thing is coming up Hydra these days.” Clint pauses once again, struggling for breath. “Anyway, Fury sent me to one of the old locations. It was supposed to be defunct. Not in use since 1953.” Clint stops speaking and Phil notes that he appears to be trying to think about how to word what he is saying.

‘Sir, did you know that Korea was under Japanese rule until the end of World War 2?” Clint asks, sounding astonished. Phil raises an eyebrow at the man.

“Yes, I did. But I don’t see what it has to do with our current situation.” Phil looks tensely at Clint, wrists and hands still rotating slowly. Trying to work the ropes loose.

“It has everything and nothing to do with our situation sir.” Phil studies Clint for a moment before it dawns on him what the archer is saying.

“So you fancied a bit of time in a Hanjeungmak?” Phil muses with a smile. Clint’s lips twitch into a smirk in response.

“Well like I said sir, it was supposed to be defunct. Supposedly we abandoned it after the KAA was signed.” Clint somehow manages to bring a shoulder up in a shrug. “But that was before my time.” Phil chews that bit of information over in his head. Jjimjilbang had indeed been abandoned at the end of the Korean War. It was also before Coulson’s time. But from what he had read about it in the archives, no real reason was given for pulling the plug on that particular facility.

“They gave one hell of a massage though.” Clint muses idly. Which Phil thinks is the reason behind Barton’s nudity. It however doesn’t answer the question of where they are. Of course there is the possibility that they are in Korea. As that seems to be the last place Clint had been. But Phil’s last location had been a back road in Pennsylvania. And he was almost certain that he hadn’t been out for more than a couple of hours.

_“Told you that fruit stand at the side of the road was suspicious.”_ The voice in his head whispers smugly. Phil begrudgingly agrees with the voice. Indeed, why had that man been selling fruit by the side of a road where almost no one would come down. But listening to that voice that said _“Whoa there Buddy.”_ would have been like admitting he was crazy. Besides those peaches had looked really good and why would Hydra just randomly know he was going to be on that road at that time and want peaches?

The plus side to all of this, meant that his capture had almost been definitely a fluke. If Hydra was doing human experiments, he had probably just been picked up as a potential test subject. However given that it was just him and Clint in this place, they had probably figured out who he was.

“They...they..uh didn’t give you any clothes..after your er...massage?” Phil asks because he is now under the assumption that they are either in Canada or the U.S. and that Clint has probably been held captive for a few days now.

“The massage didn’t have a very happy ending sir. Not that I don’t mind a bit of roughness.” Phil rolls his eyes at the archer. “ Besides they were itchy and constricting.

“Uhuh.” Phil wonders how this man-toddler has managed to survive two years without him. 

,i>“He doesn’t need you. They don’t need you.” The voice unhelpfully supplies. He ignores it, because that is what you do to shitty voices that won’t shut up.. Phil glances at his watch and notices another hour has gone by. Clint is barely moving now and Phil has to stare hard to even be able to see the rise and fall of the archer’s chest. Honestly, if Barton wasn’t still staring at him intently, Phil would have thought Barton had died.

“C’mon Barton, you’ve survived tougher situations than this. Don’t give up on me now.” Phil pleads with the other man. His wrists move a little more easily within their bindings and he feels a bit triumphant. He just needs Clint to hold on a few more minutes.

“Nothing tougher than hell, sir.” Barton shakes his head, his words barely audible. Phil swallows hard against the lump in his throat.

“Barton...Clint...please.” Phil finds himself begging. He tries pulling his wrists out of his bindings. They chafe his skin and cut burns into it. But he is relieved to see the ropes do give a little more and he can pull his wrists out a little. But just a little isn’t going to be good enough. Phil presses his lips into a thin line and jerks his arms harder against the ropes.

********************************************************************************************

It is two - well he wouldn’t call them children because they appear to be fully grown- that find them. But the looks on their faces; scared and curious .Those looks tell Phil that their minds are far more undeveloped than their bodies are. Phil isn’t sure what they are, similar in nature to a few specials they have come up against. The boy’s hands move so fast untying the rope that Phil thinks it may catch fire. (he swears he saw a bit of smoke.) And the girl..the girl some how manages to get Clint down without touching him. He should thank them for rescuing them. But they bring up more questions and he doesn’t know where he is or why. Plus he is tired. So Phil chooses instead to stare at the two of them in a way one would stare at monkeys in a zoo. The two not-children stare back at him in much the same way.

Finally Phil breaks the awkward staring contest to crouch next to Barton. He shrugs off his jacket and lays it over the man to give him a bit of decency. Not that Clint would know what decency was if it hit him in the face with a brick.

“Thanks.” He finally whispers, hand reaching out to gently stroke Barton’s face. Happy to see that Barton has started to breathe normally, even if passed out.

“Wanda.’ The girl says absently as if it was the least important thing in the world. Phil looks at her for a moment, not sure what she means.

“Wanda.” She says again, gesturing to vaguely at herself. And then Phil realizes that she must be Wanda.

“How did..I mean.. where..” Phil pauses because he isn’t sure what question he should ask first. He is fairly certain that these two are the twins that Barton had tried to rescue. But he isn’t sure how they came to be rescued by them instead.

“Pietro.” She responds pointing in the direction of their male rescuer. Her twin brother no doubt. Pietro looks to be fading in and out of existence. His face contorted in a way that makes Phil think he is concentrating very hard to keep himself from disappearing. It is only when his sister walks over to him and places her arms on his biceps does he relax. Although Phil would swear that his body still seems to be vibrating.

Phil clears his throat after a minute, sliding his hands into his pockets and rocking back onto his heels at the same time. Pietro and Wanda gaze over at him thoughtfully, heads slightly tilted. Coulson thinks that they remind him of puppies and briefly wonders what May would say if he were to bring home a couple of strays. Of course, Fury probably wouldn’t let him keep them. But maybe if he were to remind Fury about his ruined cards, he’d get to have them. Of course, he would have to get them all out of here.

Much to his relief, the cavalry comes charging into the building, mere minutes after the Twins had. 15 minutes according to his non SHIELD issue watch. Barton is loaded on the bus and whisked away to the med bay for treatment. Phil supposes now is the time for him to come back from the dead. Hours later as he is settling himself down in his office with a cup of coffee and a mountain of paperwork does he even wonder how May and the others found him. When asked May just smirks and tells him that she implanted a tracking chip in his shoes months ago. Phil makes a mental note to replace all his shoes.


End file.
